I find one of the most annoying things about having a full-time job is having to do our weekly shop in the evenings, or on the weekend.
The last thing I want to do on a Friday night, after a long week in the office, is head to the supermarket and queue 5-deep for a punnet of blueberries.
Sometimes we are organised enough to do our food shop online, but there is something much more pleasurable about walking the aisles and seeing what takes your fancy.
Sometimes, even taking a little something of what you fancy from the shelves and snacking on it on the way round… oh keep your socks on, I still hand the empty packaging to the cashier at the end so she can ring it up.
Anyway, there I was one Friday night expertly steering my trolley between the aisles to stock up on essentials for the weekend.
It was not a big shop, just a quick topping up of the stock we always seem to run low on… those things being fruit, vegetables, wine and chocolate.
I should have been in and out in a jiffy, but it being a Friday night and all, there were trolleys upon trolleys queueing up to be paid for.
The self-service lane looked a bit clearer so, as I only had a few items, I raced over to an empty checkout and started scanning.
‘Please wait for approval’ the machine started bleating out at me ‘Please wait for approval’
Oh great. Now I had to wait for someone to come over and authorise that I was of legal age to purchase alcohol.
A young lad soon appeared and keyed a special code into the machine, which allowed me to continue scanning my goods without any further interruption.
‘Don’t you want to check my ID?’ I quipped.
‘Hahaha, no it’s ok Madam’
I wiped the last few bar codes over the glass and popped them into my bag.
‘Please wait for approval’ the machine instructed again ‘Please wait for approval’
The young lad returned to my checkout.
He looked in my bags for what could possibly be causing the hold up.
There nestled between 8 bottles of wine, a bag of carrots and a family sized bar of Dairy Milk, was a half-eaten ham sandwich and an empty packet of crisps that I had snacked on during the walk round.
He held up the offending items for all to see.
‘There is a problem with your weight, madam’
He gestured to the empty packaging I had scanned and bagged, keyed another code into the machine and was off again.
Old AND fat…
We are no longer speaking.
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